


5 Times Peter Parker Rescued Someone (And 1 Time Someone Rescued Peter)

by 9VaniaStein9



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, Angst, Bonus Chapter, Caffeine, Character Death, Death, Gen, Hurt, I don't own Marvel, Marvel - Freeform, May is worried, Mourning, Mugging, Muggings, Peter is mourning, Shooting, Shootings, Uncle Ben dies, author wrote this instead of sleeping, bonus chapter included, please tell me if I need to update the tags, takes place between the death of Uncle Ben and into the part of 'Come On Spider-Man', this is fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:25:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9VaniaStein9/pseuds/9VaniaStein9
Summary: Rescuing someone isn’t always about some big, daring act, but sometimes it feels just as important. Whether it’s Spider-Man or his civilian side, Peter can help, but he needs help, too.





	5 Times Peter Parker Rescued Someone (And 1 Time Someone Rescued Peter)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, Peter is acting pretty dark in this chapter. It's only been three weeks since Uncle Ben's death, and this is graphic in my book, but it's basically what's in The Amazing Spider-Man movie, but a little different. Uncle Ben is around May's age when it happens, so, yeah, here we go.  
> Thanks for reading, and beware of at least one mugging, shooting, and major character death (Ben). :)  
> There will probably be a bonus chapter, so, after the 5 chapters, get ready for the chapter When Peter Rescued Himself. Some of these scenes are from scenes in Marvel movies.

Peter’s been chasing this guy for weeks. May worries, but Peter’s been telling himself that as soon as he finds the man who killed Ben, he’ll stop.

Two problems stand in his way of doing so.

One: The vigilante needs to find the man first.

Two: If he _does_ find him, after he takes care of what he is forcing himself to take care of, Peter isn’t sure if he _can_ stop.

Or if he wants to.

He hasn’t found the man yet; just look-alike criminals and ones that just so happened to be noticed by the teen as he searched for his goal. The number of mid-thirties males who are white and have long, blond hair is alarming, but the teen won’t let a night go by without sneaking out, crawling down the brick walls to get to the ground, his feet splashing in the muddy alley behind his apartment building before he takes off in the direction he wants to go, crawling up buildings or, more recently, swinging around the city in the cover of night, slipping in and out of shadows in his search of the criminal.

Peter has barely slept, kept awake by nightmares and the coffee that he has been consuming at a rate that makes his aunt take it away, but he has to drink so much that it’s barely worth it, but he _has to try_.

Peter sucks in a fortifying breath as he stares down at the ground below, holding on only by his fingers on the cold, damp wall.

His ears strain to hear any signs of trouble in the city—in the city he used to call his and Ben’s, but now...

He knows.

A screech cuts off his twisting thoughts that don’t let the weight ease up off his chest, and Peter lets himself fall, catching himself with a web at the last moment, twisting so that his swing does not throw him into the side of a building, but turns him so that he is following the sound of a woman begging for release.

“Please, take it! Just let me- Please! You can have my money, just-“

Peter lands in an alley, right beside a man who is holding a gun to a woman’s head, and immediately pulls the arm so that it is no longer pointing the gun at the woman, instead now pointing it at a wall, but he jams the gun with his webs, twisting it out of the man’s grasp, letting it clatter to the ground as he pins the man against a wall, the uneven bricks digging into the man’s back as he stares into the slit eyes of the mask.

Peter has the man’s hands pinned so that he can’t move, and he webs them there, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a small black heart that drips into a drop of blood at the bottom, the ink faded and graying.

Peter’s chest gets heavier, more than it has been, which makes him draw in too many shallow breaths to keep himself taking in air, and his sight goes red as he stares at the man’s face, remembering the way that the man smirked as he tossed him the chocolate milk at the counter, the look of the tattoo of the bleeding heart that he glimpsed when the man grabbed the money from the cash register. Remembering the way that Peter almost took the milk, but he saw himself in the mirror of the small store that was barely held together, and he left it there, leaving it with the man who was running the store. Peter remembers the way that he walked out, head down, determined to not run away from his problems, but to tell Uncle Ben that he, Peter Parker, needed help. Peter remembers the way that his chest felt with the anxiety bubbling up until the fear clawed at his throat as he got nearer to where he was going to cross, only a block or two before he reached home again, where Ben should have been waiting to give him a lecture, which would end in a hug that always seemed to melt away the stress of the day, to cause his heart to feel better, even though he was doubting himself, his life, his parents, and his identity.

Peter remembers the sound of the gunshot that rang out through the streets when the voice that always calmed his fears after a bad dream or a terrible day told someone to stop, and he remembers how it felt to whirl around and see the body fall as the man—the man pinned to the brick wall—met his eyes.

Peter remembers the feeling of the blood that soaked through his uncle’s shirt, through the jacket, coating Peter’s hands as he tried to slow the bleeding, the way that the blood and the tears were warm, and he remembers the feeling of his uncle’s heartbeat stopping.

And Peter remembers the look of fear in Uncle Ben’s eyes, even as he looks into the eyes of the killer.

And he wants to let the man know the pain and the loss and the fear that seems to have replaced the blood in Peter’s veins, but when he sees those eyes, the red starts to clear as the fear that was in his uncle’s eyes before he died are in the man’s, and Peter can’t.

Peter _won’t_.

He won’t let himself become the same as the man at his mercy.

It takes longer than he wants it to to make himself let the man only be held there by the webbing.

Peter turns around when he is finished subduing him there, using webbing to keep the man from saying anything because he doesn’t know what he will do if he hears that _voice_ again, and he leaves the man whose name he knows but can’t bring himself to say there, nose uncovered so that he can breathe because he’s too afraid of becoming what he hates, but when Peter turns around, he suddenly remembers the woman who is staring at him in fear, her body pressed against the other wall.

“P-please don’t hurt me,” she whispers. “Please, take it.”

Her eyes flitter to her purse, which is strewn on the ground, but Peter shakes his head slightly, as if to clear it, his head still feeling so _wrong_ , even as he bends to pick up her purse, remembering right before it’s too late that he can’t touch it without his fingerprints being left.

After he straightens, he glances at the man, but it makes it hard to breathe again, seeing the face of the man who killed his father-figure, and his eyes find the woman as quickly as he can, and they don’t leave her face until he is finished talking.

“Call the police and tell them what happened. All of it. The more they know what he did, the longer he’ll be in jail. They know his name; just show them the tattoo on his left wrist.”

The vigilante starts to walk away, but he pauses when she lets out a quick, startled, “What’s your name?”

The name is said before he can stop it.

“Spider-Man.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think.  
> Have a blessed day!


End file.
